


“When I Get Older”

by AhmedA01



Category: 1960s Music Scene RPF, British Singers RPF, Music RPF, Rock Music RPF, The Beatles
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, quarter life crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AhmedA01/pseuds/AhmedA01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> John isn’t too happy about turning 25.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“When I Get Older”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Obviously. Unfortunately.

 

Sitting poolside, with his feet dangling in the cool water, John peered moodily into the distance, shoulders and legs a slightly healthier bronze than the pale British white that he normally was. With a frown marring his features, John took a long drag of a cigarette before flicking the ash in a nearby ashtray, evidence of his chain smoking habit more than obvious by the number of cigarette butts that filled the dish.

He had originally planned to sit out on the balcony of his second floor room, a desire that was soon squashed by the frenzied ruckus caused by the young girls that had camped outside to greet him on this auspicious occasion. As soon as he had made his appearance, a cacophony of cries and sighs erupted that quickly forced the slightly alarmed Beatle indoors. So, there he sat in his backyard, relatively free from the prying eyes as a vibe of barely repressed disgust and resentment emanated from his hunched over form, scaring off any and all intrusions. Even those by his wife and child who had retreated indoors tearfully.

Soon, a small cupcake with a candle appeared before his eyes, breaking John out of his reverie as it was held aloft by a calloused hand. With a grimace, John looked up, his heated gaze immediately meeting Paul’s laughing one.

With a grin, Paul bounced his hand up and down, causing the chocolaty treat to dance in the air in front of John’s eyes. “Happy birthday, Johnny,” he chirped happily.

Grumbling, the older man swiped at Paul’s hand, trying to knock the cupcake away, but the other man simply moved it out of reach.

With an irritated glare, John groused, “what’s so happy about it?”

Rolling his trouser legs up as he toed of his shoes and socks, Paul perched himself on the ledge as he set the cupcake down between them. Splashing the water with his feet, he threw John a scandalized look.

“What are you talking about?” he gasped theatrically, with one hand on his chest. “There is much to be happy about, love! We’re in the middle of recording a fucking fantastic album,” he said excitedly before deepening his voice with a haughty wink. “We have a ripping party to go to tonight. And,” pausing briefly Paul grinned as the sound of the excited young women on the other side of John’s gates was faintly heard. “We have a bevy of beauties at our beck and call,” the younger man finished with a flourish.

With a snort, John flicked the slowly burning cigarette butt into the water before freeing two more from his fast emptying box. “Bevy of beauties, right,” he replied with a roll of his eyes as he dropped one of the fags into Paul’s eager hand.

“Okay, what’s the matter?” Paul responded with a sigh, placing the cigarette between his lips as he leaned in for a light.

Lighter flickering between them, John looked straight into Paul’s eyes as he answered bitterly, “I feel fucking old.”

The two held the gaze for a bit longer than necessary, and John could feel his heart speeding up before he wrenched his eyes away. Startled by John’s unexpected behaviour, Paul quickly leaned back as he shook his head slightly with an awkward cough.

Once again under control, Paul turned back to the older man with a raised eyebrow, “You’re only 25, John,” he replied comfortingly.

“Yeah,” the other man answered sulkily. “Twenty-fucking-five. A few short years of turning 30.”

With a sigh, Paul turned back to the water, his feet gently skimming the water’s surface. “ John,” he began with a deep breath. “Five years is a long time.”

Glaring, John shot back, “That’s easy for you to say! You’re only twenty-three, you still have a good seven years left.”

Suddenly, Paul began to laugh.

John’s frown was quickly wiped away in favour of a look of astonishment that again quickly melted into sourness as he asked, “What?”

Smiling brightly, Paul turned to face his mate as he said, “Remember when age mattered? How the fact that I was two years younger caused you so much grief?”

Looking slightly taken aback, John asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Back in Liverpool,” the younger man clarified. “When you were a manly seventeen and in art college, and I was still a sniveling fifteen year old in grammar school.”

Rolling his eyes, John replied, “Your age never bothered me.”

Paul simply looked back at his partner with a pointed look until he relented.

“Well, okay it did,” he said after a moment. “But it didn’t take that long for me to get over it, if you can recall.” With a shrug, John continued. “ You were me best mate, after all. Why should our age difference matter in the long run?”

Clearly touched, Paul smiled at the older man, which John reluctantly returned before the two lapsed into a comfortable silence, the sound of splashing water and the faint screams of delight and heard in the distance.

With a sigh, John suddenly spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “It just seems like I should’ve accomplished more by now.”

Astonishment colouring his features, Paul whipped his head to the side. “More than this?” he exclaimed, aghast. Arms spread wide, Paul attempted to encompass everything that surrounded them. “Look around you, love. No one has ever accomplished more than we have and in so short a time.” With a wink, Paul grinned, “We’re the fucking Beatles, mate. What more could you possibly hope to accomplish?”

Sighing, John turned away as he spoke, “I know all that. It’s just…”

Paul interrupted John mid-sentence as he leaned over, placing his hand on John’s knee. Slightly disconcerted, John looked down at the younger man’s hand, the warmth of his grasp sinking into his skin and traveling through his body in pleasurable waves. Gulping, John looks into his mate’s face without saying a word.

“Plus,” Paul said, with a whisper of a grin. “You have a lovely son and a wonderful wife.”

Smiling bitterly, John grumbled, “Yeah, a son I barely know or see and a wife I’d rather not be married to.”

Paul sighed in response as he moved away, the removal of his hand causing John a brief sense of loss, instantly missing the weight the younger man’s hand provided.

With a roll of his eyes, Paul looked over at John again, “Well, now you’re just being difficult, son.” Then with a serious look, he continued, “You’re not getting old, John.”

Looking away, John let another sigh slip past as he gazed sullenly into the distance, shoulders slumped dejectedly.

Paul looked over at John silently for a moment before he began to rummage through his pockets, jingling keys and loose change loudly as he muttered loudly to himself, “Where the fuck is it?”

With a sideways glance, John shook his head in amusement as Paul finally produced a lighter triumphantly which he then used to light the candle on the cupcake with much fanfare. After making sure the candle would not die out, Paul held the little cake aloft before he spoke.

“Well, go on then,” he said impatiently.

Smirking, John replied, “Go on with what?”

With a look of mock anger, Paul waved the cupcake in front of John’s face as he ordered, “Blow out the fucking candle, Johnny.”

Raising his eyebrows, the older man groused, “Are you fucking serious?”

Face set in a steely glare with his lips pressed tight, Paul replied, “Do I look serious to you?”

So, after expelling a put upon sigh from between his lips, John grumbled, “Oh, fine.”

Suddenly grinning like a little schoolboy, Paul thrust the cupcake between them as he exclaimed, “Don’t forget to make a wish!”

Looking at the flickering of candlelight across Paul’s delighted face, John closed his eyes and blew out the candle in one whoosh.

Clapping, the younger man cheered. “Well done, mate,” he exclaimed. “Well done.” With a curious look on his face, Paul leaned in conspiratorially as he asked, “What did you wish for?”

“Well,” the older man drawled as he fixed Paul with a grin. “If I tell you, it won’t come true, now will it?”

With a pout, Paul crossed his arms across his chest as he fixed his mate with a glare. “Well, how will I know that it came true if I you don’t tell me what it was to begin with?” he whined.

Putting the cupcake aside, John leant forward and took Paul’s face in his hands and before he could think about what he was about to do, kissed Paul softly and sweetly on the lips.

Breaking the kiss, John pulled away, eyes twinkling as he took in Paul’s closed eyes. Whispering against the younger man’s lips, John said, “It just did.”

Paul’s eyes flew open and staring into the mystified look on the younger man’s face, John grinned. Before the other man could figure out what was going on in John’s mind, the older man placed his hands on Paul’s shoulders and with a mighty shove toppled him into the pool. Scrambling to his feet to avoid the splash of water, John laughed uproariously as he watched Paul’s head bob to the surface, the irritated younger man rubbing his face and pulling wet strands of dark hair out of his eyes as he tread the surface. Hands on his knees, John continued to laugh, completely unaware of the sly smirk that now graced Paul’s lips.

Lunging forward, Paul grabbed hold of John’s hand and pulled the now startled man into the pool as the older man let out an unmanly yelp. The two fell back with a splash, the cool water crashing over their submerged heads before they broke the surface, Paul now laughing as John scowled half-heartedly.

Giggling, Paul sidled up to John and wound his arms around the older man’s neck as he whispered with a grin, “Happy birthday, Johnny.”

Finally smiling without a hint of reserve, John replied, “Ta, love.”


End file.
